history that Mr. Malarius had lent him. Katrina, Hersebom, the goodwife,
was occupied peacefully with her spinning-wheel, while little Vanda, a
blonde of ten years, was seated on a stool, knitting a large stocking
with red wool.

At their feet a large dog of a yellowish-white color, with wool as thick
as that of a sheep, lay curled up sound asleep.

For more than one hour the silence had been unbroken, and the copper
lamp suspended over their heads, and filled with fish oil, lighted
softly this tranquil interior.

To tell the truth, the silence became oppressive to Dame Katrina, who
for some moments had betrayed the desire of unloosing her tongue.

At last she could keep quiet no longer.

"You have worked long enough for to-night," she said, "it is time to lay
the cloth for supper."

Without a word of expostulation. Erik lifted his large book, and seated
himself nearer the fire-place, whilst Vanda laid aside her knitting, and
going to the buffet brought out the plates and spoons.

"Did you say, Otto," asked the little girl, "that our Erik answered the
doctor very well?"

"Very well, indeed," said Otto enthusiastically, "he talked like a book
in fact. I do not know where he learned it all. The more questions the
doctor asked the more he had to answer. The words came and came. Mr.